Two Perfect Days
by Sehanine
Summary: Horace Slughorn has taken Felix Felicis twice, and has had two perfect days. These are those days.


Disclaimer: All characters and locations are the property of J.K. Rowling. Some of the dialogue at the end is taken directly from Half Blood Prince. No copyright infringement is intended

A.N.: Round 7 entry for Pride of Portree.

Position: Keeper.

Potion used: Felix Felicis.

* * *

July 1941

Horace Slughorn walked into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts for the first time in six years and smiled. There was nothing like returning home after an extended period away, and Horace had always viewed Hogwarts as his home.

Headmaster Armando Dippet stood at the bottom of the grand staircase and looked at Horace assessingly. Under normal circumstances, Horace would have felt uncomfortable being scrutinised like this, but today nothing could shake his confidence. He grinned and walked up to the headmaster, extending his hand in front of him.

"So nice to see you again, Headmaster Dippet," Horace said happily, shaking the older man's hand.

"I wish I could say the same, Mr Slughorn, but I'm afraid I remember your reputation all too well," Dippet replied, releasing Horace's hand as soon as his grip slackened.

"Why, Headmaster, whatever do you mean?" Slughorn enquired, somehow managing to smile and frown simultaneously. He suspected it was not his best look, but couldn't quite bring himself to care enough to smooth out his features.

"You want something from me, Mr Slughorn, and don't try to pretend you don't. Perhaps we should retire to my office and discuss the matter privately?" Dippet suggested, not waiting for a response before turning and walking quickly up the stairs towards the seventh floor.

It occurred to Horace that the office could hardly be any more private than any other area of the school during the summer holidays; all of the staff and students, save the caretaker and the headmaster, were absent until the second half of August. Following his instincts, he opted not to mention this and instead followed closely behind the professor.

At the top of the staircase, Horace realised with delight that he was not even a little out of breath, despite his generous stature. He briefly considered that perhaps the headmaster had insisted on speaking in his office because he suspected it would cause discomfort for Horace but found that the idea didn't actually bother him.

Once inside the office, Dippet sat behind his desk and motioned to Horace to take a seat in front of him, much like he had on the few occasions he'd been summoned as a student for various misdemeanours. Again, he thought he was probably supposed to feel uncomfortable and, acting on instinct, he shifted slightly in his seat, the very picture of the naughty schoolchild. Dippet smiled slightly; clearly Horace's instincts had been spot-on.

"Now, Mr Slughorn," Dippet said. "Why exactly have you requested this meeting?"

Horace grinned again."I hear you are in need of a Potion's Master," he replied, his smile growing wider at Dippet's look of astonishment.

"How did you find out about that?" Dippet asked, leaning forward in his chair, suddenly appearing more interested in Horace than he had been previously.

"Minister McLaird is a good friend of my father," Horace said. "The new educational decree may not have been announced publicly, but the minister informed my father, knowing that I would find the news interesting, having just completed my mastery. So," Horace paused, leaning forwards, mimicking the posture of the headmaster. "When would you like me to start?"

Dippet's eyebrows rose at Horace's presumptuous question. "What precisely makes you so certain that I intend to hire you?" he asked.

"Well," Horace began. "There are two reasons. Firstly, I spent a lot of time in Hogwarts learning exactly how to manipulate people for my own gain. I was sorted into Slytherin for a reason, you know.

"Secondly, the last project I undertook while working on my mastery was a wonderful little potion called Felix Felicis." Dippet's eyes widened and he completely gave up on trying to look disinterested.

"Now," Horace explained, leaning closer to the headmaster conspiratorially. "We're not really supposed to keep any samples of the potions we brew for the exams. But, with little Felix… I just couldn't resist. I kept enough for three days of perfect luck, and I decided to use the first one today. So, the way I see it, you can't possibly not hire me."

"Giving away your advantage so early is hardly a very Slytherin course of action, Mr Slughorn," Dippet replied. Horace simply relaxed back in his chair, still smiling, the effects of the potion doing wonders for his confidence.

"However," Dippet continued. "I can certainly see why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw. Admitting to the use of a substance such as Felix Felicis during a job interview gives me ample reason to refuse you the position."

"I'm afraid you are wrong, Headmaster," Horace said. "I have not given up any advantage, I have simply followed my instincts, as is advised when using this particular potion. If it had been a bad idea then the potion would not have caused me to admit to it."

The headmaster considered Horace's words. They seemed to fit with what little he remembered from his own study of potions. However, he still could not see any way for Slughorn to get around his use of a controlled substance.

"As to your second point," Horace continued, as though reading the headmaster's mind. "I do not believe this is a formal job interview. You have not announced that you are looking for a new professor. In fact, you haven't even dismissed the current potions professor. I simply requested to meet with you today and our pleasant conversation has turned to my desire to work at Hogwarts."

Dippet's shoulders slumped slightly as he evidently realised that Horace had done nothing wrong.

"So, when would you like me to start?" Horace repeated his earlier question, still grinning inanely.

"August eighteenth is the date the staff return. You may arrive earlier if you wish for more time to prepare," Dippet replied, giving up. "You realise, Mr Slughorn, that unless I intend to travel abroad to interview potential candidates, you are in fact the only qualified person to take over the potions professorship? Your use of the potion was rather unnecessary."

"Of course I realise that," Horace said. "In fact, I took the potion this morning for a completely unrelated reason, but I must say it has been incredibly useful in helping me to avoid having to return for a formal interview, which is what I was originally angling for."

"So why did you take it?" Dippet asked, frowning in confusion.

"There's a rather pretty new barmaid working down in the village. I haven't been able to get very far with her, but I was hoping the potion might assist me in getting a date. I intend to stop in for a drink before apparating home."

September, 1974

The sorting ceremony was well under way, and Horace Slughorn was the only professor not paying attention. He could hear Minerva clicking her tongue as he failed to clap for the new students entering his house, but frankly there were just no interesting students arriving this year.

There were, however, some very interesting students already at the school, most of whom were happy members of his Slug Club. Four students, however, all in Gryffindor, all male, and all incredibly reluctant to join the club, were the students who held his attention on this particular night. Four students who were, at that time, deep in what looked like a very important conversation.

As Horace observed them he could see each of their personalities in the variety of movements they were making. James Potter, pointing at the others in turn, clearly directing the discussion like the born leader he was. Sirius Black, gesticulating wildly, knocking a first year's hat off his head, then patronisingly patting the child on the head and proceeding to ignore him. Remus Lupin, picking the boy's hat up again, brushing it down and returning it, obviously apologising. Peter Pettigrew, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth at something James said, looking like he wanted to contest it but choosing to say nothing instead.

These four boys were the bane of most of the professors' lives, but Horace loved them. As a group they had every quality he looked for in his club members.

James and Sirius had the ambition and cunning, more so than any of his Slytherins. Remus had the intellect that meant he could go far in life if only someone could heal his mysterious illness. Peter had the extreme talent in potions, although it was his only academic strength if the comments from the other professors were anything to go by.

Horace had tried on multiple occasions to convince them to join his little gatherings, knowing they would make excellent additions to his collection of useful acquaintances. Unfortunately, however, they had declined at every opportunity.

Tonight, though, would be different. Horace had considered waiting for the morning so he would have a whole day, but had eventually decided to use his second dose of liquid luck on the first day of term. The boys were notorious pranksters and were bound to attempt some scheme on the day they returned to the castle, as they had done the previous two years. Horace simply needed to manipulate fortune slightly in his favour to be able to use this knowledge to his advantage.

After the feast, Horace had intended to go straight to the Slytherin common room and introduce himself to his new students, but instead found himself with a strange desire to wander the third floor corridors. Recognising this strange instinct from the last time he had taken Felix Felicis he began his rounds earlier than planned.

Only moments after he reached the third floor, Horace heard voices coming from around a corner. Listening, he could pick out the exasperated tones of Sirius Black and the slight stammer of Peter Pettigrew. Horace peered around the corner to see the two boys engaged in a hushed argument, with James and Remus standing back.

"You had one job. One job!" Sirius' hushed tones grew louder. "All you had to do was remember the password over the break, but you couldn't even manage that, could you?"

"I'm sorry!" Peter squeaked, backing away slightly. "I meant to remember, I did! I just…" he trailed off, looking at his feet.

"You just forgot!" Sirius sneered. Horace sometimes honestly found it difficult to believe that Sirius had not been sorted into Slytherin, particularly when a little of the famed Black family temper started to show.

"Sirius, mate, it's not his fault," James said, placing a calming hand on Sirius' shoulder. "It's been two months. Anyway, it's not important, we'll figure it out some other time." James glanced over to Remus and Peter for confirmation and both nodded, Remus' arm slung over Peter's shoulder in a show of support.

"Yeah, I guess," Sirius said, looking dejected, albeit calmer. "I just really wanted tonight to be good, you know? Two months at home… well, let's just say it wasn't fun."

"You're back now," Remus replied softly. "We can figure out secret passages any day, but we can only celebrate the start of third year once. Come on, let's go back to the dorm."

Horace marvelled at Remus' ability to always say the right thing at the right time, both for Sirius and Horace himself. For while attempting to comfort his friend, Remus had given Horace exactly the ammunition he needed.

Horace stepped around the corner just as the four boys were about to walk away. They stopped, James and Sirius a picture of innocence, Remus blushing slightly but nonetheless holding eye contact with his professor, and Peter looking guilty as sin.

"Evening, Professor," Sirius said, smiling broadly. "What brings you out at this time of night?"

"I believe that is the question I should be asking the four of you, is it not?" Horace replied, trying his best to look stern but feeling his moustache twitching as a smile threatened to break out at Sirius' cheeky tone.

"Oh, us?" James said, eyes darting from side to side but otherwise giving no indication that he was panicking. "We got lost, sir. Gone for two months and can't remember a thing, right?" he looked to his friends. Peter nodded emphatically, while the others just looked amazed at his rather lame excuse.

"Well, that is rather unusual," Horace said. "Most students can generally remember at least which floor their common room is on from year to year."

"I know, Professor," Sirius spoke up. "Honestly, it wasn't so much that we couldn't remember the obvious way to the dorms. Straight up the stairs isn't really that hard to grasp. But Peter," he nudged his friend, who let out a little squeak as Sirius' pointy elbow connected with his considerably softer body. "Well, he said there was a shortcut just down here, but we couldn't find it."

"Boys," Horace said. "If you have forgotten anything over the holidays then it is simply how to lie convincingly to your professors. Now, I am going to give you all a choice." He looked sternly at the row of boys, all now trying to look contrite as they realised they hadn't a hope of getting away with their misdeeds.

"Choice number one: I report this to Professor McGonagall as procedure dictates, and she assigns you each a week of detentions," The boys did not look overjoyed at this option, just as Horace had been expecting.

"Choice number two: You report to me on Saturday evening for a lively discussion of memory-enhancing potions," Horace said. The boys looked at each other, clearly torn. Horace felt rather offended that one evening in his company could be a torture comparable to a week of Minerva's detentions.

"We'll take option two, sir." Remus said, the voice of reason every time for the group. Horace smiled.

"In that case I will see you on Saturday." Feeling a little sorry for the boys and wanting to encourage goodwill between himself and them, he added: "the password is 'dissendium'."

His plan had gone perfectly. Horace had every faith that once the boys had attended one gathering they would want to attend them all. Perhaps, he thought, as he walked down into the dungeon, he would sit James next to Miss Evans. They would make a handsome and probably very successful couple.

September 1996

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Horace. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

Horace gazed dreamily into the distance. He still had one dose left of that potion. He wondered what he would use it for. Back at Hogwarts at the constant beck and call of Albus Dumbledore, with nearly eighty years of life under his belt, Horace suspected he would be using it simply to have a nice, uninterrupted nap.


End file.
